


junkyard dog.

by tylerscreamingintothevoid



Series: crawl out through the fallout back to me. [4]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Affectionate Sole Survivor, Dogs, F/F, Fluff, Kit is a grumpy gramma, Mocking, Nicknames, Pet Names, Piper is great, We Love These Girls, adopting a new pet, mild argument
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2020-01-07 02:47:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18401570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tylerscreamingintothevoid/pseuds/tylerscreamingintothevoid
Summary: Piper and Kit are headed across the Commonwealth when they run into a new friend...





	junkyard dog.

Preston gave a low whistle as he looked Fort Hagen over. The rest of his recruits began taking position, heading inside the building and holding the place secure. They'd tidied up the front, moving bags of trash out to the back and fishing out anything worth reusing, and built a makeshift wall around the sides and front for defensive purposes. Some minutemen were repairing the machinegun turrets, some affixing barbed wire to the new wall and gates.

Kit was stepped down the stairs, finishing her rounds of making sure everything was in working condition. She crossed her arms as she approached Preston. "Heya, Garvey."

He smiled to Kit and gave her a quick salute. “Great work. Thank you. Every outpost and settlement we claim helps ground us back into the fabric of the Commonwealth.”

Kit shrugged. “It was no problem, really. I'd already cleared the place anyway.”

Preston smiled. “Great. Now, while I recruit some settlers to set up here, General, I've heard that another settlement requires our help.”

The woman put her hands to her hips, and sighed. “Really? Alright, I guess I have the time right now.”

The man's face fell. “Sorry. Uhm, some people have recently started repopulating the Jamaica Plains, but word is they’re poorly defended. It's a good location, but they'll probably just move on once they realise the target they'll become. Could you head out there and help them out?”

Kit's face responded in a way that would turn milk sour. “That's all the way across Boston,” she replied. “What the hell, Preston.”

Kit walked down the rest of steps from Fort Hagen, her boots leaving loud footsteps behind her, then turned back to the man. “Course, I’ll do it, but I'm not happy about walking my ass all the way out there.”

Preston grinned. "General, we all _really_ appreciate you. You know that, right?"

Piper was sitting by the gas pumps, flipping through a mostly undamaged Grognak comic. An open bottle of Nuka-Cola Grape sat beside her, the purple liquid still as it had lost its fizz over the years.

Kit squatted next to her, hands on her thighs. "Hey, babe. Good issue?"

Piper closed the comic and held it up, showing the cover to her girlfriend. "Grognak and the bat babies. Hon, It's timeless."

Kit rolled her eyes. "Alright, alright, we get it. You're the only literate and cultured person in the Commonwealth."

Piper put the comic away, and she downed the rest of the Nuka-Grape. "Ah. Refreshing, even after two centuries. We're heading off?"

"Jamaica Plain," said Kit, expecting the groan that came from Piper. "I know, it's a long walk. But we got each other, won't be boring. Promise."

Piper grabbed her satchel, buttoning it down and holding it up. She brushed her thumbs against the bottlecaps she had affixed to the back of it before putting it on, reaching for her red press cap and hooking it sidewise on her head.

Kit packed her gear, putting on a fresh uniform (as fresh as was possible in the wasteland) and strapped on her combat armour.

She strolled back out to the footpath, Piper giving her a playful nudge on the shoulder. "Think we're gonna run into trouble?"

Kit chuckled. "Don't we always?"

 

* * *

 

_Thunk-athunk-athunk-athunk-athunk._

Piper dragged her baseball bat along the road, bored out of her mind by the repetitive scenery- scorched trees, destroyed buildings, corpses corpses corpses.

"Think we can stop by Diamond City on the way? Stock up?"

Kit glanced back, slightly. "Hm? I mean, I guess. But if we do that we'll be an hour behind schedule."

"An hour behind schedule? E.T.A. is already five hours on foot, Blue."

Kit shrugged. "I mean, no biggie. We can drop in at Publick Occurrences on the way. Check in on Nat."

A silence rose between them, then. It was getting to midday, and as they passed the lake by Vault 81, they heard something by the nearby houses break aforementioned silence.

A bark.

" _Dogmeat?_ "

Piper furrowed her brow. "Babe, why would Dogmeat be out here?"

Kit went red. "I-I dunno, I just haven't seen many other dogs around."

"Logic, babe."

"I know, I know. It's my weakness."

As they walked down past the ruined houses, they saw the a man lying by the road, a dog standing beside him. The dog barked repeatedly, but the man didn't respond.

Kit reached for her gun, approaching. She cleared her throat. "Hey."

The dog looked up, before going back to the man, nudging at his arm. Kit let go of the gun, letting her guard down as she got closer. "Puppy? You okay?"

"That is not a puppy," said Piper, as if Kit actually thought it was a puppy. "It's a uh..."

"Rottweiler," said Kit, still approaching. "Hi."

The Rottweiler tilted its head, looking worried. The man wasn't breathing, that much was clear. As Kit examined him a little closer, she noted that his sleeve was rolled up, a few needles of psycho on the floor nearby.

"Overdose," said Kit morbidly. "No wounds, but he's got holes all up his arm."

"I know how psycho works."

Kit raised an eyebrow. "You do?"

"Not personally, Christ."

The vault dweller reached out, and the Rottweiler hesitantly met her hand with its cold wet nose.

Kit shivered, then moved to scratch under its chin. "Hi, buddy... are you okay?"

The dog made a slight whimpering noise. Piper bent down, reaching over to pet it. "Aw... you wanna come with us?"

Kit's neck snapped ninety degrees to the other woman. "What?"

Piper shrugged. "Don't you think another dog would be nice?"

Kit whined. "I already feel guilty not taking Dogmeat with me everywhere as it is..."

Kit pulled away, and Piper got down on her knees to ruffle up the back of dog's head, playing with it until its tail was wagging. It barked right by Piper's ear, making her wince. "God, buddy."

Piper checked the collar. No name.

Kit looked the Rottweiler over, thinking for a moment.

"Rusty."

Piper glanced up. "Hm?"

Kit cocked her head. "When I was a kid, we had a dog named Rusty."

Piper grinned. "Rusty it is, then." She turned back to the mutt. "Do _you_ like that?"

The dog panted happily as it received attention from its new owners, yet it kept looking back at the man. Kit reached over to close the man's eyes, propping him up respectfully against the wall.

"Alright Rusty, you mangy mutt. Can't leave you out here to die, I suppose. Let's go."


End file.
